


too far gone

by Mekina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Milking, Top!Sam, Wincest - Freeform, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mekina/pseuds/Mekina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're a slut, and you can't help yourself. So I'm stopping you." Sam holds up the key. "You can't get hard with that on, and you can't get out of it until I let you. I'm done watching you slut around and drink yourself into a coma every night."</p>
            </blockquote>





	too far gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexa_dean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexa_dean/gifts).



Dean is a bastard. That's the only thought going through Sam's head as he sits at the table in the corner of the bar and watches Dean drink and flirt like it's going out of style. He should really know by now that when Dean invites him out for drinks he's really inviting Sam to hang back and watch while Dean charms everyone in the bar, getting them all to fall under his spell.

Dean is beautiful, and he knows it. He knows just how to use his looks to get what he wants, be it information for a case, a free drink from the other patrons, lowering the guard of whoever he's hustling. Dean can use his looks as easily as he can use a knife. He's a master at it, and no one is safe.

Not even Sam.

The irony here is that he's the one person Dean doesn't purposely manipulate with his looks. No, Sam fell victim to Dean completely on his own.

He watches as Dean leans over, settles a hand on a woman's thigh, smiling when she hails the bartender. If Dean's own brother doesn't have a chance, how can they resist?

Sam turns away and stares down at his beer. He's feeling pretty disgusted, partly at Dean and partly with himself. He wants Dean so goddamn much, but even as he's thinking about what that would be like, he's aching for Jess.

He's a real piece of work, lusting after his brother and grieving for his dead girlfriend, each within mere moments of the other.

He stays there, sulking (he can't pretend that's not what he's doing, not even to himself) until Dean staggers over sometime later, drunk enough that he leans over, hand on the table and warm breath on Sam's neck.

"Sammy," he purrs, bending down further in an effort to catch Sam's gaze. "You take the car. 'M going with Tracy."

Sam raises his head and looks over Dean's shoulder to see who Tracy is. She's waiting by the door, clutching her purse and staring at Dean's back hungrily. She's beautiful (of course she is, this is Dean, after all), but she doesn't come close to outshining Dean.

"Right," he agrees flatly. "See you tomorrow."

Dean is either too distracted by the thoughts of the night ahead, or just plain too drunk to notice Sam's lack of enthusiasm. He slaps Sam on the back and nods. "Maybe you can find a Tracy of your own."

He leaves after that, and seeing no reason to linger, Sam drives back to the motel. Even if he did suspect Dean had been harboring lust for him, Sam probably wouldn't ever give in to his desire. It's not that he doesn't want Dean (does he fucking ever), it's just that it wouldn't mean a goddamn thing to Dean.

Sex to Dean seems to be completely meaningless. He likes it, he enjoys having it, but he doesn't treat it as anything meaningful. Sam doesn't see it like that. Can't. Sex is more than just sex for him. He has to know and like the person he's with.

It's not that he only has sex in a long term relationship, he's had one offs before, but only when he's actually spent time with the girl beforehand, formed a connection with her.

He's spent his entire life forming a connection with Dean, it makes sense in a really goddamn twisted sort of way he'd fall for Dean like he has.

The way they each view sex is so fundamentally different Sam knows even if they did fuck, Dean would treat it like a casual hookup. It would mean everything to Sam, and he can't, he won't go through with it only for his brother to act like he's some stranger Dean met in a bar.

*

They meander their way across the country, saving people and hunting things. John would be proud, Sam thinks sometimes, if their father even spares them enough thought to feel a thing about them at all.

Dean drinks, and fucks, and damn near smothers Sam in an effort to take care of him. It's simultaneously obnoxious and endearing.

Weeks go by in the same vein, and every time he sees Dean flirting, leaving with a woman (and on one memorable night that Sam suspects he'll be hearing about for months to come, two), Sam's entire body itches with the desire to storm over and rip Dean away from them, drag him out to the car and just _show_ him...

Dean is just too goddamn promiscuous.

Despite the fact that Sam has repeatedly told himself he wouldn't come along with Dean to bars just to sit and watch him get shitfaced and hook up, he still does. He really wouldn't put it past Dean to try and fuck a witch, or hit on some guy's girlfriend. Sam is getting steadily more pissed off watching Dean flirt, but he'd rather his brother have backup just in case.

He's getting no small amount of satisfaction out of the fact that Dean keeps striking out tonight. Even from across the bar, he can see Dean getting more and more frustrated, frown growing and the drinks being downed faster with every rejection.

Sam almost wants to just ignore him when Dean finally drags himself over. He looks so sorry for himself that Sam rolls his eyes and shifts to face him when Dean sits.

"Fuckin' terrible luck tonight. Either that or all the prudes are out tonight." Dean watches a woman who just turned him down leave with another guy. "The hell? Damn it. C'mon, Sammy, this calls for more drinks."

He rolls his eyes even harder when Dean gets a trayful of shots from a passing waitress, some of them uncomfortably bright colors, and lifts one, smile back on his face as he looks at Sam.

He tips his head back, throat working as he downs the shot. Sam watches for a second, then looks away, fidgeting. He doesn't need to be torturing himself when he's already set his limits firmly in place.

Dean passes out halfway back to the motel. Sam has to drag him inside, gritting his teeth at Dean's dead weight. Carrying him and supporting him when he's been hurt on a hunt is one thing, but Sam is sick and tired of Dean drinking himself into a coma every night, not to mention so fucking done with sitting back and watching him slut around every town they pass through.

He dumps Dean on a bed and pulls out his laptop. A plan is slowly beginning to form in Sam's mind. He needs to find the nearest all night sex shop.

*

Dean wakes up, rubs his forehead and whines about his hangover, and only then notices what Sam has done.

"What the FUCK?"

Sam hears him clearly from the bathroom where he just finished showering. He isn't able to keep his smirk off his face when he finds Dean glaring at him in the motel room.

"The fuck did you do?" Dean rips his boxers off and gestures at his soft dick, and more specifically, the metal cock cage it's in. "Take it off!"

"No."

Dean gets up and follows him across the room as Sam moves to get clothing from his duffle. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean _no._ I'm so goddamn tired of your shit, Dean. You fuck around like you'll die without sex. I'm surprised you haven't died from a fucking STD by now. We should probably be more worried about that than about you getting killed on a hunt. You're a slut, and you can't help yourself. So I'm stopping you." Sam holds up the key. "You can't get hard with that on, and you can't get out of it until I let you. I'm done watching you slut around and drink yourself into a coma every night."

_Done watching you give yourself to every goddamn person but me._

Dean makes a grab for the key, as Sam expected, and he holds it out of Dean's reach, hand on his chest keeping him back. His eyes stray down to Dean's cock, soft and locked up until Sam decides otherwise. He's in charge, and...fuck, it's hot. 

"If you don't take this off, I'll cut it off," Dean threatens, but Sam knows it's empty bluster.

"You really willing to get something sharp that close to your cock?" Shaking his head, he puts the key away. "You'll just have to wait until I'm ready to take it off."

Dean falters, outrage slipping into uncertainty. "S-Sammy...how long do you plan to keep this on me? Am I even going to be able to piss?"

"There's a hole at the end, didn't you notice?" Sam smiles grimly, feeling another thrill at keeping Dean all locked away. "I'll keep it on as long as I think I need to. You'd better get used to it, Dean."

*

Sam seems to walk around for the next few days with a smug smile fixed firmly in place. It probably looks creepy as hell when he's out in public, but he can't help it. He gets so much satisfaction watching Dean walk awkwardly like he can't adjust to the feeling of the cock cage (Sam did ensure he got one that wouldn't show through Dean's clothes, he's not that much of an asshole), seeing him squirm and shift, rubbing his ass all over the Impala's seat as he drives, the way he doesn't even flirt with the waitresses anymore when they stop to eat.

There haven't been any trips out to drink either. Dean obviously doesn't think it's worth it now that he can't get his rocks off.

Dean stalks out of the shower that night, frustrated and pissed at the world. Sam turns the TV up louder and ignores Dean's growling.

"For fuck's sake, Sam, it's been three days! Give me the fucking key," Dean says at last.

He should have known being ignored wouldn't discourage Dean. "No, I don't think it's been long enough yet."

He ends the conversation there by turning the sound up even more, but he knows it's not over. Sam's got another idea forming, one that's too tempting to resist.

When Dean tries to take the key off of him when he thinks Sam is asleep, Sam is expecting it. He rolls over and grabs Dean's wrist before his hand can slide into Sam's pocket.

"Just give it to me." Dean's voice is edged more with desperation than anger now, and Sam barely stops himself from smiling. This is his chance.

"I'm not going to take it off." Dean's expression darkens, and Sam hurries on. "But I'll help you out."

"Help me out?" Dean allows Sam to pull him down onto the bed.

"Bet your balls are feeling pretty tight right now. The pressure is building, right? And you think there's nothing you can do about it. But there is. Well, something I can do." Sam reaches into his open duffle and pulls out the lube.

Dean is eyeing it suspiciously. Rightfully so, if Sam is honest. "What are you planning to do?"

"Milk you." Sam uncaps the lube, watching Dean's face swing between incredulous and confused. "You can either trust me and let me do this, or you can go back to your own bed and try and get some sleep. Just know that the cage isn't coming off anytime soon."

Resigned, Dean nods. "Fine. What do I do?"

"Take off your boxers, lay down, and spread your legs." Seeing Dean follow his orders, albeit a little hesitantly, has Sam's dick hardening. Jesus, he hasn't even gotten to the fun part yet.

Sam slicks his fingers up, nudges Dean's legs further apart, then rubs one finger gently over Dean's hole. It's tight and clenched, and Sam has to wonder if his brother's ever ventured down here during sex.

"Sam? What--" Dean jolts, makes as if to move away, but Sam grabs his ankle and makes it clear he'll just pull him back down, right into his lap if need be.

"You said you'd let me. I know what I'm doing. Just relax."

He rubs slow circles over Dean's hole for a while, letting him relax and get used to the feeling. When Dean relaxes and sinks back against the bed, Sam pushes in up to the first knuckle, savoring Dean's shocked cry and the flutter of muscles unused to this around his finger.

"You done this before?"

Dean shakes his head, biting his lip. "Had a girl once that wanted to. I thought it was gross, didn't let her."

Dean has no idea what he's been missing out on. Sam waits until Dean breathes deep and relaxes, then gets the rest of his finger inside, wasting no time in searching for Dean's prostate. The moan he gets in response is the hottest thing he's ever heard.

"Guess you've never felt this before, then." Sam rubs firmly over Dean's prostate, feels him tremble and try to spread his legs even farther. Sam fits his second finger into Dean, ducking his head to get the best view he can of Dean stretching around his fingers, his rim looking sore already.

"Sam," Dean starts, entire body jerking when Sam presses firmly against the bundle of nerves again. "Sammy, what are you doing?"

Sam shushes him, cock fully hard as he applies steady pressure on Dean's prostate, seeing the tremors in his body and the way he's biting his lip. Little moans slip out, and through it all Dean stays completely soft.

"Love it, don't you?" Sam hasn't tried to fool himself into thinking this is actually about him helping Dean out. This is him finally giving up the fight, letting his desires overwhelm him and doing what he swore he wouldn't. "Cock's not even hard, but you're getting off on this, on your ass being played with." He takes a moment to rub around Dean's hole with this thumb, then goes back to grinding gently against his prostate.

Dean doesn't seem to know quite what to do with how it feels. He rocks his hips, pushing his soft dick up as if in search of friction, grips the blanket so tight Sam is surprised it doesn't tear, and the whole time his legs stay wide open for Sam. His uncertainty seems to be gone; he's too busy shaking and moaning Sam's name.

Any second now, he's sure, and then Dean chokes on a whine, and come drips from his soft dick. Sam keeps at it, merciless with his movements against Dean's prostate. He keeps it up as thick globs of come slip out, until there's nothing left.

He stops moving his fingers after that, but doesn't pull them out. Sam enjoys the way Dean's muscles flex and clench around him, even more so because Dean doesn't even seem aware he's doing it as he squirms.

"Better?"

"Nngh. Kind of. It's...I still feel like I want to come, but...the pressure is gone."

Sam pushes in a third finger, waiting to see if Dean will protest. He doesn't, only sighs and grinds down against them. Biting his lip, Sam slips his fingers out and tugs at Dean's hip, urging him to roll over.

Dean looks at him for a long moment, expression unreadable, then he goes with it and rolls onto his belly, tilting his hips to present his ass to Sam.

Sam groans and reaches blindly for the lube, forgetting it's still open, accidentally getting it all over the sheets before he manages to slick his cock. Breathing hard but too turned on to be embarrassed about it, Sam pulls Dean up onto his knees, lines up, and drives home.

Dean tenses all over, panting almost louder than Sam at the feeling of having a cock in him for the first time. Fuck, the _first_ time. Some part of Sam is telling him that Dean deserves better than this, his first time shouldn't be like this... Sam has waited so goddamn long. He's sat back and watched Dean whore himself out to every woman that's so much as glanced his way, spent countless nights waiting up until Dean stumbles back in, reeking of perfume and littered with marks...

It's been so long, and he's done being slow. Sam pulls out and rocks back in, barely giving Dean a chance to get used to being so full. His brother makes soft, hurt noises into the pillow. He's shaking but not stopping Sam, instead pushing his ass up higher.

Dean feels fucking amazing. Sam leans forward to grab Dean's hair and pull his face up out of the pillow. "Dean?"

"Sammy, it's too fast, fuck," Dean's voice is strained, and when he turns his head to look back at him, Sam is shocked to find Dean's face is wet with tears.

He knew it was too much, Dean hasn't done this before, and Sam... "Do you want me to stop?"

There's a pause. Sam frantically prays for Dean to let him keep going, aware that he's fucking despicable.

"No. Keep going." Despite his wet eyes, despite the discomfort clear in his voice, Dean wiggles and tightens deliberately around Sam. "Don't worry about me. Just keep going."

He doesn't have to worry about Dean, Sam realizes. He's got permission, and he doesn't even have to worry about getting Dean off. He can just use Dean for his own pleasure. Dean's going to fucking _let_ him.

Sam pushes Dean down flat to the bed and braces himself over his brother's prone form and fucking into him as hard and fast as he wants. Dean's so fucking tight and untouched (and thinking that almost makes Sam come on the spot), and still making those same quiet noises, now trying to muffle them in his arm.

"Oh, god," he chokes out, digging his fingers sharply into Dean's hips. "Wanted this so long."

Three more thrusts and he loses it, getting Dean all sloppy and wet with his come. Dean grunts when he pulls out, then starts to roll back over.

"Don't," Sam says, sharper than he intended. 

Dean freezes, lifting his head and watching, puzzled, as Sam reaches off the bed and into his duffle again. He lifts the plug out and presses it into Dean before he can even see what it is Sam is holding.

"I want you to keep that in during the day." It's not a suggestion, but an order. "Keep my come in you."

Dean rolls onto his back, face screwed up as he moves. He doesn't argue, just sighs and looks wearily down at his soft dick and nods in agreement.

*

Some part of Sam doubted Dean would wear the plug all day, but he does. When they drive, he sees him biting his lip and grinding down not so subtly against the seat, as if trying to get it deeper. He can't actually get off, but the fact that he still wants more has Sam at least half hard for most of the day.

He finally has enough and makes Dean pull over on the side of the road. He fucks him up against the side of the car, Dean bracing himself to avoid being slammed into it on every thrust.

Dean can't even fucking get hard, but he spreads his legs and pushes his hips back and moans. As soon as Sam is done, he puts the plug back into Dean.

As they catch their breath, Dean rests his forehead against one of the Impala's windows. "You ever planning to take this off of me, Sammy?"

"Eventually." He gets back into the car and waits for Dean to do the same, smug smile erupting back onto his face when he sees Dean wiggling and shifting in the driver's seat, unused to the feeling of come in his ass still. "When I feel like it."


End file.
